Mischief Strategy
by magnessina
Summary: The three times Christine tried to seduce Erik. Fluffiest fluff to ever fluff. [Moonlight Serenade verse but can be read separately]
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, hello! Surprised, huh? So am I.**

 **I've been to Paris recently, and I swear to God, I was _drawn_ to the Opera Garnier. I would come back there every day of my trip and just walk around, looking at it, imagining Erik and Christine doing the same. Which might've been insane, but it was also incredibly inspiring. Hence, this was created.**

 **A three-shot, set in _Moonlight Serenade_ verse (+ _Gone with the Dawn_ , obviously) but it can be read separately. Again, maybe someone will want to check out those aforementioned two stories having read this thing. It's not long, it'll be completed within a few days, but I do hope you will enjoy it.**

 **Given the subject matter, this story is rated M. Not this installment, but the following two... yeah. I got carried away.**

 **Without further ado, have at it and do drop me a line!**

* * *

I look at my reflection in my vanity mirror once more and sigh exasperatedly, knowing it will not get any better, no matter how hard I would try. My hair is loosely combed, my make-up is hardly noticeable, and my gown is decidedly more revealing than the usual ones. Everything looks fine, I suppose. I obviously could use some more feminine confidence and charm, but this is as good as I will get tonight.

I am a woman on a mission. I just hope Erik does not see right through me straight away.

If I am to seduce him, I need him not to.

Our relationship has always been rather physical – at least, on my part. Erik would scold me all the time, would stop my hands from wandering, would always sigh and try to calm me down when I'd got too carried away. I suspect, he is trying to protect me from himself, even though I definitely do not want to be protected from him.

On the contrary, I decisively need _more_ of him. And soon.

Just last week, the night when I had to comfort him and help him go through a rather self-conscious evening, he said my wantonness would one day give him a stroke.

Considering with what he is going to be faced tonight, I do hope he will not die on me.

 _My father would have been horrified._

Casting one more glance at the mirror, I take a deep breath and leave my bedroom. I find Erik sitting in the living room near the fireplace, quietly reading a book. Apparently, he already finished cleaning up after our dinner (I insisted I help him, but he shoo-ed me away, telling me to take a relaxing bath instead. He was the greatest and I was the luckiest.)

"I love you," I announce.

"I am touched," he answers, marking the page and putting the book away. "But what did you do this time that you start the conversation—" he doesn't finish, because he finally looks at me and suddenly his teasing mood is gone. "Christine, you look—"

"I'm glad," I giggle, coming closer. "Will you fetch us a bottle of wine, perhaps? I haven't drunk in ages."

"It's been two days, love," Erik chuckles, standing up. "But whatever my diva desires, my diva gets."

A wide smile spreads across my face as I take a seat on the sofa because this is going _marvellously_ so far! Erik is in a very good mood tonight, he clearly appreciates the effort I made to look nice, and this can only end _well_.

Perfect.

"You are absolutely breathtaking, darling," Erik breathes, sitting next to me. "You always make me speechless, you know that, but you are particularly awe-inspiring tonight."

"You are getting sappy! This is so not like you!"

"I know," he moans, pouring us the wine. "You are turning me into a wimp."

"Fear not, Erik, to me you will always be a very manly wimp."

He bursts into laughter, "Why thank you, Christine. It is so nice to always have your beloved's support. The Phantom of the Opera Garnier, a very many wimp!"

 _It is going well, but it could get even better_ , I think to myself taking a sip. I just have to figure out how to attack him without scaring him off.

"Have I told you already that you look very handsome yourself, tonight?" I inquire, smiling at him softly. He lifts his eyebrow, shaking his head.

"My poor, mad darling," Erik laughs, kissing me in the forehead. "I would argue even if I was wearing both my wig _and_ my mask. Right now, I look grotesque. But we shall not dwell on that, so just thank you, Christine."

"You are absolutely beautiful, love," I insist, hugging his side. He wraps his arm around me, and _yes, indeed_ , my mission is going great. We are exactly where I wanted us to be. "I cannot stop thinking about kissing you, to be quite honest. Speaking of, that reminds me that you should kiss me silly for a few minutes now."

"I actually wanted to talk about your career for a bit, now, if you don't mind? Kissing can wait—"

"You don't want to kiss me?!" I gasp. _No, no, no, no career talk now, are you positively insane?_

"Oh, I am in fever to kiss you. It is always an absolute honour, dear, but when I start, you are going to commence your attempts at seducing me, something that is becoming some sort of a habit of yours, and I will have to stop you, and you will get mad and storm to your room, and I will have to go there and appease you… You know, the usual. So we will never get the chance to discuss some more pressing matters. Hence, if you didn't mind mind, I'd really like to—"

"I would _never_ do such a thing!" I interrupt him, blushing furiously. What an horror, how could _he know?_ This is exactly what would happen.

"I am not quite sure who are you trying to kid right now," he chuckles, kissing my hand.

"I am not trying to seduce you!" I shriek. It is ridiculous. He is right, obviously, but he _cannot_ know about it.

"Aren't you? So how do you explain the way you look right now? Admittedly, you're absolutely delicious and you will not hear me complain, but still…"

"I… I tried to make myself presentable."

"As I have said before, you're always stunning. Right now, your fashion choice seems to suggest that you've got some plans for us…"

"I am _appalled_ , Erik, utterly appalled!"

"Please."

"I am tempted to just go to my room and not speak to you for days. That was rude."

"That was _true_ , first and foremost," he answers. "Second of all, you would not be able _not_ to pick a fight with me for days, so this threat is rather innocuous, darling. Last but not least, I am flattered that I happen to be the object of your attempts at seduction. We just can't do it."

"Whyever not?!"

"Ha! So you _were_ going to try!" He shouts in triumph.

"Oh, shut up," I mutter, moving away from him and focusing on my glass of wine. He saw right through me and the romantic mood was gone.

"Don't be mad," he whispers. I look at him, and he looks so happy, and playful, and just… so free, I have no heart to be angry with him.

"I am not. So, what do you want to discuss?"

He smiles brilliantly and nods to himself. "So, I was thinking that—"

 _Christine 0 : 1 Erik_.


	2. Chapter 2

**From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for being so amazing. Again! It's always so nice to come back to you guys. I'll be forever grateful for your never-ending support.**

 **Off we go, part 2!**

* * *

I pride myself on always learning from my mistakes. I err, I err often, but I never do it again. Hence, my next attack is thoroughly planned out. I spend a few nights contemplating my course of action, adjusting it, polishing it up, and finally I am certain that this time around I shall get what I want.

Which is Erik.

I know I must make him believe that I have finally given up on trying to seduce him ( _what a ridiculous notion, indeed);_ he must be convinced that he does not have to keep his guard up.

Therefore – as painful as it is – I behave like a good girl is supposed to behave.

I am a lady, for the first time in my life.

I keep my distance. I keep our kisses chaste ( _do murder me for I shall go insane_ ) and after a week or so, I feel that Erik believes me.

"How was your day, darling?" He asks after he's helped me with my cloak and I'd taken my seat on the sofa.

 _Show time, Christine._

"Oh, it was horrible," I pout. "I thought I would _die_."

"Literally or metaphorically?"

"Both!" I squeak.

"How come?" He looks interested. That's good.

"Aside for La Carlotta giving us hell, and I know it happens all the time but it was particularly bad today, a falling pole might or might not have nearly killed me at one point."

"Are you serious?" he cries out. "Are they mad? Who the hell is supposed to ascertain that the performers are safe of stage? Me? What is wrong with these stupid people? Where were Firmin and Andre? What about Reyer? For the love of all that is cursed, I am going to kill them _all_!"

"Oh, don't," I whisper meekly, delirious with excitement and happiness on the inside; this is exactly it – the passion, the rage, he is absolutely _perfect_ right now, and I have missed his Phantom tendencies so much lately! He is shaking with fury, all because _I_ was in danger ( _I was not, I am going to burn in hell for that lie;_ I mean, the pole did fall, but it fell two metres away from me, so…) and this is absolutely delicious.

I could cry right now.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just go upstairs right now and make _everyone_ regret having been so irresponsible!" he growls.

 _Good God._

He does not suspect a thing. I am dressed in one of my usual dresses, quite a modest one, but chosen especially for him nonetheless, considering blue is his favourite colour.

"You will never find anyone else as capable of running your Opera as them—"

"Nonsense!"

"—and I could really use a hug right now from the man I love," I whimper.

"Oh, Christine," he breathes sitting next to me and pulling me roughly in his arms. _Yes, perfect_. "If anything happened to you, I would be destroyed." My heart clenches in my chest, for it'd be the same for me. I would shatter into million pieces, should something bad happen to him.

"I know. This is why I need to feel you right now. It was quite a fright, to be frank."

"But you're fine, right? Nothing happened?"

"Just got really scared, but you've got nothing to worry about, dear," I reply. "Could you, perhaps hug me a little tighter? I want to feel safe."

He does, and for a longer while we just sit here in silence. At some point I even consider calling my mission off, because I am _really_ comfortable here in his arms, and it is really warm and cosy and I could actually fall asleep within minutes, but I also realise that if I do not try tonight, I will never do that again.

And this would be unacceptable.

"May I kiss you, Erik?" I whisper, looking up at him. A wide smile spreads across his unmasked face, making me feel deliriously happy to be here with him right now. Again.

"Of course you may. You should not even ask," he replies. I do not waste any more time; I firmly press my lips against his, and I'm in _heaven_.

We keep it chaste – I let him believe that it is all I need right now; that I just want to feel him close to me, feel his presence, regain my sense of security. Erik plays along, softly caressing my lips, but not moving _an inch_ ; he does not hug me closer, which is a shame, really, but if everything goes according to my plan, he will.

Soon.

After a moment or two, I break the kiss and smile brightly at him. Erik's eyes are a little hazed and he blinks a couple of times before smiling in return.

He is glorious.

"One more?" I inquire innocently, and he just chuckles in response, kissing me again. This time, I apply more pressure and slowly, gently cup his bare cheeks in my palms. Caressing his scars, I delicately press my body against his, making sure not to appear too eager.

Baby steps. This must work.

I can feel him relaxing next to me, getting more and more engaged in our… _activity_. His kisses are getting more and more demanding, and I try to respond accordingly.

 _Splendid, indeed_.

It is when he tugs on my lower lip and a soft gasp escapes my throat that things start to escalate quickly; soon enough I am nearly _straddling_ him and we are kissing as if our lives depended upon it. It is _phenomenal_ , and I am desperate to have more and more of him, so I break our frenzy and start kissing his marred cheek, moving to show his neck some much-needed attention.

He is breathing heavily, his eyes closed tightly from what I have had the chance to notice, and I am _this_ close to succeeding.

When I touch one especially appealing spot on his neck with my tongue and he actually _moans_ , it suddenly…

Stops. Just like that.

I do not even know how he managed to escape from the position in which we had found ourselves, but the next thing I know, he's standing at least three metres from the sofa, gasping for air with his eyes open wide.

"What happened?" I ask. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Quite nearly!"

"What? Erik, talk to me!" He is starting to scare me.

"I cannot believe you would actually try again! I thought we had agreed…"

"No, you _decided_ for us. We never had that conversation. Tell me what happened, for the love of God!" I demand, getting angry.

I am frustrated, disappointed, and just _fed up_ with this whole situation.

"We cannot do this, just… Just stop trying to seduce me, woman!"

"You didn't like it?" I pout, suddenly very self-conscious. The truth is, Erik was my first kiss. I am young and inexperienced, so it is very much possible that I am the worst kisser ever, and Erik simply does not want to hurt my feelings, yet does not feel the need to have me as his lover.

"This is not what I mean—" he answers, and just as I am about to start crying, convincing myself that he is just humouring me and the lust I feel for him is completely one-sided, I notice something.

Something that suddenly pleases me very much.

Having been raised in the Opera house, one gets to hear… stories. I remember our first kiss – I did compare it to what the ballerinas had told me, and it was _better_. And now, it is happening again.

Namely, there is one spot, one area, in which Erik's suit does not fit as impeccably as it usually does.

And it makes me feel so much more powerful than what the girls had spoken of.

"Oh, so you did like it?" I am very smug all of a sudden.

"Christine, we will not be having this conversation now. Are you _done_?"

"You know what? I am not!" I stand up and come closer to him. Looking him in the eye ( _which is not that easy, curse you, height difference_ ), I decide to play dirty. Overcoming all of my inhibitions and trying to recall everything that the ballet girls had ever talked about, I say to him, clenching my teeth the whole time, "If you are not willing to fulfil my needs, I shall now go to my room and do it myself. Do not think I do not know how to do it. And by all means, you sit here and enjoy your fiancée-less evening."

 _I would never do it_.

He does not have to be aware of that fact.

"Christine, wait!" He calls after me. But I don't.

I lock myself in my bedroom and throw myself onto my bed.

His move.

 _Christine 0.5 : 1.5 Erik_.

(I mean, I did succeed to some extent. I do deserve these points.)


	3. Chapter 3

**I am so sorry. Something super important came up, and I couldn't finish this little one until today. But here it is, the last installment, and the one question that arises is: will they have sex or will they pass?**

 **SUSPENSE, SUSPENSE**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

I cannot sleep. I am tossing and turning, and getting angrier and angrier.

This entire situation is downright ridiculous. I do not, for the life of me, understand why Erik is so stubborn about giving in; we are in love. Utterly so. He has loved me for years now, and claims I am the only woman he has ever wanted.

It seems only logical, then, to follow our bodies' desires.

Obviously, it is unseemly. We should wait until our wedding night, and it should be only my wifely duty, nothing more, so I should not really look forward to it. However, our case is so much different. For one, as I have said, we love each other. It is not a duty. Second of all, the girls have informed me – a few times, actually – that when done right, it is amazing for both parties involved. Again, not a duty at all. And last but not least, I doubt we will ever get married.

Why wait, then?

I sit up with a huff of frustration. My entire body is tingling and Erik is doing _nothing_ about it.

Knowing that there is no way in hell I am going to fall asleep tonight, I get up, put on my peignoir, and lighting a candle open the door of my bedroom. The house is quiet and nearly dark, so I suspect Erik has gone to bed already, too.

Not sure as what to do, I notice that there's still fire in the fireplace. I enter the living room and sit down on the fluffy rug (on which I insisted, even though Erik argued it did not match the décor of his house) and resting my back against the sofa, quietly observe the flames.

I am not sure how much time passes, but I don't even flinch when Erik sits on the couch behind me. Somehow I knew he'd come to find me here.

"Are you going to say something?" He asks when the silence between us is nearly unbearable.

"Not really, no," I answer. "I think I have said enough."

"You were angry and excited. I'd like to hear what a calm and collected you has to say."

"I don't know what else to tell you. I want you, and it hurts me when you tell me it is wrong."

"Darling—"

"Don't bother, Erik. I will live. I mean, if it is not something you are interested in, then I will have to just accept it, and get over it. At least I'll know you won't cheat on me."

"Oh, what an utter nonsense, Christine," he growls.

"Now, why are you getting all angry?" I ask him, turning around to face him. He looks down at me, clenching his teeth. "Are you going to lash out on me, now? Even though I just said it was okay?"

"I don't appreciate your tone."

"Oh, find yourself someone who's actually afraid of you, will you?" I sigh, turning back. I am so not in the mood for his fury. I can hear him pant behind my back, and if I wasn't so fed up with everything, it'd actually spark my curiosity. For the life of me I can't decipher why he was getting so worked up over this conversation.

I wasn't trying to bed him this time, for pity's sake.

"You must be clinically insane to say things like that," he snarls.

"You might want to say that one again," I reply. His mood is rubbing off on me and I am getting angry myself.

"Christine, don't you try my patience…"

"And what will you do to me?" I ask incredulously, standing up. "Lock me up in my bedroom? Tell me to go and re-think my awful behaviour? _Spank me_?"

With a loud guttural sound he practically launches himself on me, stopping only when we hit the wall.

"You think I don't want you?" He asks.

His face is millimetres away from mine, and I have troubles focusing, but I answer him, anyway, "Oh, you do. I've seen evidence. But you're clearly not interested in these things, and I accept that."

"I'm not interested?" Erik breathes. "I am _not interested_?! Christine, this is… this everything I think about. Everything I have ever wanted. Everything I have ever dreamt of. How could I not be interested in taking our relationship to the next level? Have you ever even taken a _look_ at yourself? You are irresistible!"

Now I am confused.

"Then why are you stopping me?"

"You are 21. I am at least 36. You are young, I am old."

"You're hardly old."

"We're both… inexperienced. I am also a disfigured freak."

"Whom I love very much and would like him to stop calling himself a freak."

"Alas, that is true. I just… What we have now is perfect. And I want it to last forever. I don't want you, us, to do something you'll end up regretting. I am terrified I will do something that will finally make you leave me. I don't want to hurt you, you know that."

"You could have told me. You _should_ have told me, instead of having made me believe that I wasn't good enough for you. Or that you didn't want me."

He gasps and closes his eyes. "How could you _ever_ think that? You are more than I will ever deserve, and not a day goes by that I'm not thankful for having you in my life. I'm just afraid that… _doing_ this, making love, will ruin what we have, who we are now."

"How could it, though? We love each other. This is going to be perfect. Erik, you know I wouldn't lie to you. I want you. Do you?"

"Well, as you cunningly pointed out earlier tonight, I can't exactly hide it."

"So I wasn't wrong?" I smile slyly.

"No," he whispers, a little embarrassed. "And… Christine… I must ask you… I mean, this is horridly out of line and I should not be doing that…"

"Oh, come on, dear. That's not us. We're playful and honest, we do not care about rules. Go on. Ask."

He clears his throat, not moving an inch. We're still pressed against the wall. I'm loving every second of it.

"Did you… do what you'd said you would?"

"You have to be more exact, I don't know what you are saying."

 _I know._

 _I want to hear it_.

"Did you… Had you relieved yourself before you came out here?"

God, this should not be as arousing. I smile at him, and I think he takes it as a "yes" because a soft moan escapes his throat; "God, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I imagined you, so close to me, behind that door, doing this… Touching yourself under the covers… I nearly went mad, love."

 _Oh, crap_.

"Remember that time… when you first stayed here, with me? Long before we even kissed. You forgot to take off your corset in the dressing room, and I had to come and help you with it. I had to untie every lace, and you breathed more and more heavily with each one becoming undone, and it nearly destroyed me. Do you recall that?"

"I do," I whimper. "That was the first time I knew I wanted you."

"I'm… I'm afraid, Christine, you're about to break my resolve. I cannot even imagine… leaving you now… and going to my bedroom. Alone."

"Don't."

"Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?"

"I am, Erik. Let's do it. Let's make love tonight."

And _we do._

He kisses me like he has never kissed me before. To my utter delight, we deepen the kiss within seconds, and after a moment we're _gasping_ for breath, and I _don't even know_ how we managed to get to his bedroom.

We collapse onto the bed, all kisses, and touches, and hands that keep wandering, and with every passing moment there is fewer and fewer layers of clothing that separates us.

There is also little awkwardness. The way Erik looks at me, the absolute bewilderment in his eyes, the excitement, it all leaves me breathless, and I don't even have the time to care about modesty or contemplate whether or not my body pleases him.

He is more concerned, definitely, and flinches visibly when he shows me the scar on his body, but we change positions, and I kiss each and every one of them, and he's _writhing_ under me, and he forgets about his imperfections, too.

And then it begins, the exploration, the pleasure, the sounds leaving our throats, the pride in his eyes when he pushes me over the edge using his skilled hands, and _god how could he deny us this sort of pleasure?_

There is also some pain when we become one, something I had the time to prepare myself for, but it doesn't really _matter_ , because we are _one_ , we are finally _joined_ , and I have tears in my eyes when I see Erik's face, the joy, the pleasure, the daze; the pain fades away, the pleasure increases, although I thought it was _hardly_ possible, and then there are moans, and groans, and gasps, and touches, and names being called out.

The silence afterwards is comforting.

"So, I was an idiot," Erik says at some point. I giggle out loud, kissing his chest softly, and he hugs me closer. We are a _mess_.

"How many times have I called you that before?"

"Plenty. 'An old fool' is my favourite, though."

"I called you a 'dumbface' earlier tonight, when I was huffing and puffing in my room."

"Nice one. I called you a 'goddamned sultry drama queen.'"

"Oh, that's rich coming from the person who overreacts and overacts all the time."

"We are back on track, Christine. Thank god, the sweetness was tiring."

"I know. I like us more when we bicker."

"Are you tired?"

"Not particularly, no. Why?" I inquire.

"Perfect. Good God, see? Age-gap relationships have so many advantages."

Oh. _Oh_.

"Yes, I am up for it, if you are." _What a terrible pun_.

"If you insist," he chuckles, getting on top of me.

"I'm not going to force you! I mean, I got what I want, I can pass this one."

"It appears now I am the one that will need to be the seducer?"

"I am not going to do all the work, all the time."

"God, I love you."

" _Prove it_."

* * *

 **Pfff, oh gosh. I sure hope you liked it.**

 **If you ever come up with nice ideas for E/C (might be set in the Moonlight Serenade or Sinful verse, maybe there's something you'd like to see, or wonder about something), you can _always_ write to me. I have nothing planned for now, but I'd like to write something more one day. Your ideas might help me come up with things. ;)**

 **For now, have a lovely day, and I'll see your around.**

 **Love,**

 **E xx**


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